Day 1.
6.45ish, clear skies – am out for a run, jog, walk.
Hari Om!
A smiling man with a protruding gait said the words while walking towards a couple of men waiting by a car for him.
I eyed the road as it stretches straight ahead, slopes up for a while, then circles back & loops like a narrow necklace. I wear my headphones (no music), stretch my legs and begin walking slow and easy.
Day2.
Aamake **#$** hoichey
Lady in black talks to girl in red as they jog past me speaking either Bengali or Oriya. My legs sore from day one, I pick up my pace but not my pride as they easily pass me by.
Day 3.
So I got a similar diamond set made for Preeti. After all what do her in-laws think?
I was at the slope when I overtook the aunty in the pink salwar-suit & white Nike’s with a faint limp gossiping with the aunty in sensible slip-ons & a green salwar suit. I smiled as I overtook them. Only then I heard –
Hu-hu-hu-hu…
The man jogged past – head, chest, torso, limbs everything picture perfect except his right arm held up to his chest was completely still. And the grunting noise he made.
I hit the slope downhill. I ran, okay jogged – slow, slow, knees hurt, but kept at it.
Day 4.
Bow wow bow wow
The white Labrador sat in the space between the handle & the scooter chassis where his human talked to another man. The engine was rearing, the dog clearly impatient to get the scooter on the road as I passed them on the slope without slowing down.
Day 5
Only one man has taken the party & this country to such heights – said the man sporting a red tilak on his forehead to the other men sporting red threads around their wrists.
We can think about a picnic – said the group head as the lady behind him shook her head.
Get back! Get back! – shouts from the cricket ground.
After the third round, the conversations became a blur, my breath ragged, I pushed ahead. Barely. When a gecko on the pavement raced ahead, I raced alongside forgetting my pain.
Day 6.
Lift your legs – said my mind.
Shut up! said me.
She ran past, her back showed in the ‘v’ of her blouse suggested a strong spine – one that comes from hard labour. Her nimble jog (in a saree) without breaking a sweat hit me hard. I ran behind as sweat stained my double XL T-shirt. Then she answered her cell phone (still running) while maintaining the pace of her run!
I realised we were never in the same league, she had been running for a much longer time – would beat me each time, even without competing. She had been running for far longer, before me & before any of the people here. When I stopped, I had completed 5 rounds – she was nowhere to be seen.
Day 7.
As I sat with my laptop open, I thought of the people I had run by. I realised I could keep writing about my run yet not write all of it. I wrote what I could, the rest I will find out more when tomorrow I run again.